


Tailor Hux

by EjBlaKit



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Reyux, Seamstress Rey and Tailor Hux, Who's playing who?, but there's also fluff, of course there's smut, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EjBlaKit/pseuds/EjBlaKit
Summary: Armitage Hux, son of Brendol Hux, a renown fashion designer, is a little out of his depth. You see, he's promised this wonderful girl that he'd help her with her project only ... he actually can't sew ...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IshaRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IshaRen/gifts).



> This is my twist on the prompt:  
> Tailor!Hux and seamstress!Rey (inspired by Burberry Hux of course)  
> Sorry it isn't as suave as you probably wanted, but I had fun writing it!

He’d talked the big game, convinced her that he was absolutely the one that she needed, the only one that could help her in this time of crisis. But to be perfectly honest Armitage Hux had no idea what he was doing.

Rather out of his depth, he’d hoped that somehow the knowledge would have simply seeped into him, a form of osmosis, but that apparently didn’t seem to be the case. Oh, he’d spent his younger years crawling through swathes of fabrics, sucking on buttons and poking at needles. His father, _the_ great Brendol Hux, master of design and cloth, had been fairly lax in his care of children, but the masterpieces he weaved from thread were a sight to behold. And had _he_ developed the knack for it? 

As Hux tried once more to thread the sewing machine, he supposed that no, he most certainly had not.

He could hear her bustling around in the next room, digging out some sort of frills or nonsense that he was supposed to help stitch together in some sort of pattern that she was supposed to wear.

Hux did not groan in frustration because Hux did not _get_ frustrated. If he did, though, this would possibly be the situation to do it in. The proverbial straw to break the camel's back.

Why the hell hadn’t all the sewing lessons or his father's critical eye enforced some sort of aptitude? And how had he been stupid enough to let himself fall into this horrible error of judgement?

She stepped through the doorway, arms filled with plastic bags, cheeks flushed pink with exertion and chestnut hair flying out of her pony tail. 

That. 

That was why. 

With her sparkling honey-green eyes and utterly gorgeous smile. Rey Jakken was the best and worst thing to have ever happened to him. 

“It can be annoying,” she said with that ridiculously lilting English accent of hers that made his heart beat a little more quickly than it should. “I’ll do it for you.” She dropped the bags onto the floor and approached. 

She was as demanding as a summer breeze, gliding through the room without any awareness of how graceful or refreshing she was. As she leant across him her breasts brushed his arm and he felt like a fourteen year old all over again, beet red and speechless. She smelt of strawberry shampoo and dust, of sunlight and metal. 

“Here,” she guided the thread through the knobs and hooks, rolling the needle down slightly to slip the thread expertly through the eye of the needle. “Thank you so much for helping me out with all of this,” she said, leaning her hip against the table. “I thought I’d be okay, but apparently not!” Her laugh was windchimes on a spring afternoon. 

This was ridiculous.

“Why’d you leave it so late?” He asked, clearing his throat and pretending that his blood wasn’t all rapidly leaving his brain. He pretended to check the thread tension, or something. He honestly had no idea. The sewing machine was ancient, but even if it had been a top of the line one he would have still been just as lost. 

“I made everyone else’s first,” she said with a blush that tinged her ears pink. “I wanted to make sure theirs looked perfect.”

“That’s quite sweet of you. Misguided,” he added, “but very sweet.”

“Are you going?” She asked, turning to begin sorting through the bags. He was rewarded with the curve of her back, a glimpse of honey skin between her shirt and jeans, and the rounded swell of her-

“No, I wasn’t planning on it,” Hux cleared his throat again.

“It’s kind of weird meeting people online, isn’t it?” She asked, and he nodded when she glanced over her shoulder at him. In all rights she should be nervous around _him_ , an unknown male in her house. But then again, she’d been able to research him fairly easily. Having a notable parent made people automatically interested in you.

She would know which school he went to, which University, she’d know the car he drove, his Mother’s birthday, and probably even his blood type. He didn’t doubt that was out there, too. Someone that public couldn’t just go and kill someone they met on the internet. That and she’d told him upfront that she’d sent their conversations to her two best friends, so they knew exactly who was with her right now. Because that was the sort of thing that was supposed to make Hux feel relaxed.

“Would you like to go?” She asked, pulling out a bolt of fabric that she began to unfold. 

“It’s … not really my sort of thing,” he hedged. “Do you do this often, though?” She nodded eagerly, pulling out a sketchbook. 

“I do designs, make up the patterns, sew and craft what I can. Actually,” she said, running a critical eye up and down his body, “I have a friend, Ben, who is about your size and I still need to make him a few things. Would you mind if I used you as a dummy?”

“Not at all.” He agreed. Whatever kept him away from the sewing machine was a good thing. She gestured for him to stand up and he complied readily, spreading his arms as she ran a measuring tape across his shoulders.

Her movements were practical, expertly jotting down numbers with a pencil into her sketch book. She muttered to herself as she nudged and guided him, arm length, neck thickness, she even wrapped her arms around his torso, as if hugging him. It wasn’t a hug though, she was taking his details for her friend. She was warm, and Hux wondered when he’d become a sexual deviant. 

“Sorry about this,” she said.

“Huh?” But she was nudging against his inseam and his face was no doubt as red as his hair, because there was no way he could hide how her closeness was affecting him when her face was that low. Though, perhaps he had as she carried on as if nothing was amiss. 

“Thank you for that,” she said happily. “I’ve traced patterns onto some of the cloth for my design, would you mind cutting? I need to start straight away.” She was taking the seat he’d had before as she pointed to the materials in question. 

Content to do this simple task, Hux picked up the fabric scissors and set to work, moving along the penciled lines with enormous care. 

Rey hummed as she worked, the pleasant noise half drowned by the roar of the sewing machine as she raced through what appeared to be quite a complex design. It could have been quite easy, Hux didn’t have the faintest idea. 

His sort of expertise was in strategy and planning. He’d be in the military if it weren’t for his Father’s disdain. Hux imagined he would have been quite good as an officer, designing training regimes or military bases. Instead he was an architect. Numbers and angles, hard edges and clean lines. There was a growing regard for his work, but he was still a fledgling, only just out of school, with only a few builds to his name. It was hard to get out of the shadow of his father, even in a different industry. 

“How often do you sew?” Hux asked, flexing the stiffening muscles in his hand. 

“All the time,” Rey answered. “If I have money I buy material. I make my own clothes,” she added with a sunny smile that lit up the dilapidated room. “I’d love to do it professionally. Not design, of course, but maybe work for one? Or on movie sets, see my clothes on the big screen.” She giggled at the thought, shaking her head at her own whimsy. Hux wondered if perhaps that was why he was here. 

The shadow of his Father indeed. 

“Would you mind?” She asked, lifting up the raw edges of what she’d been sewing. 

Hux stood quickly, legs tingling as blood flow returned to his limbs. He held his arms out dutifully as she slipped on the sleeves, adjusting the length and pulling in the back. After a few strategically placed pins, Rey was stripping him of the garment and returning to her machine. 

“I haven’t studied it, though, I can’t afford tuition or classes.” She said.

“You mean you’re self-taught?” He asked in amazement. She nodded, a pin clenched between her teeth as she concentrated on turning the material just so. “That’s amazing, I wouldn’t have guessed it.” He looked down at the pale material in his hands, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. “How long do you have until you need these ready?” He asked.

“Two weeks. It’ll be tight, but with your help?” She released the pin and smiled at him.

***

Armitage Hux stood at her door and wondered what in the entire Universe he was doing here again.

The previous session had gone fairly smoothly. She’d been delighted with his precision, and he’d acted admirably as a living mannequin. 

Nervousness lanced through his gut at the idea that perhaps he would have to use the sewing machine today. 

Rey had been sending him progress shots all week, and they’d talked endlessly online. That wasn’t unusual though, they’d spent the past few months in endless discussions about everything and nothing. She complained about her work as a waitress, and he bored her with details about very specific window frames. She talked about her friends, and he’d talked vaguely about his family. Until he’d let slip that his father sewed and she’d instantly made the familial connection. Her insistence at needing his help had been hard to refuse, and somehow he’d been suckered in again. 

“Hiya!” She said breathlessly, throwing open the door. He supposed she had to throw it open, as to get in you needed to lift it up so that the door would actually swing on its hinges. Her apartment had quite a few flaws, but he knew of her money troubles and kept the opinions to himself. 

“Hey yourself,” he said and instantly hated the words. He cleared his throat nervously. “Sorry I’m early.”

“No, that’s fine!” She practically pulled him over the threshold, clearly eager to begin. 

He followed her down the flaking hallway and into the main room of her home that made up her studio, lounge room and kitchen. There were two other doors in the hallway, presumably for her closet sized bedroom and shoebox sized bathroom. It was all incredibly clean though. Despite the quality, Rey took great pride in her home. 

“I want to show you,” she said, holding up her hands for him to stay where he was. Hux nodded and obediently sat down beside a pile of gauze and cream materials, glancing nervously at the bobbins and threads while she vanished into her room.

He waited for five minutes before she appeared. 

Her hair was pulled back into three buns, a metal-looking staff in her grasp. She was draped in cream and beige, the material artfully dirtied. Wraps decorated her forearms, and her feet were momentarily bare under tan three-quarter length pants. Leather straps cinched in her waist.

“What do you think?” She gave him a twirl.

“Good, you look good.” He blustered. He had no idea what she was supposed to be, but it somehow managed to show off her musculature physique without being revealing. She looked … feminine yet strong. Hux wondered if the room was getting warmer or if it was just him. 

“Thanks! I finished it this morning!”

“So we’re working on Ben’s today, then?” He asked, smoothing his clammy palms over the top of his thighs, trying to dry them on his pants.

“I’ll need to do a fitting, if you’re okay with it? It’s on my bed.” Intrigued, Hux rose and moved into the room.

He’d been right, it was tiny. But she’d made the most of it, her clothes lined neatly on a hanger, fairy lights strung across the ceiling and over the walls. Pot plants graced two rows of wall shelving and a stack of books made up her bedside table. Only because the room was so small her double was pressed flush to the wall. 

Hux stepped over her pile of recently discarded clothes and inspected the laid out costume with interest. He barely registered the sound of the door closing behind him as he plucked at the black material and inspected the stitchwork. 

Sewing may not run in his DNA, but Hux knew good craftsmanship when he saw it.

Curious, he dressed as instructed, folding his own clothes neatly on the end of her bed. The sight of his shirt on her rumpled quilt looked homely and a strange sensation fluttered in his gut. Was he really this smitten with a girl he’d met online? His father would be horrified. 

The pants fit quite well, the zip unhampered and the clasps locked perfectly into place. The puffy sides felt a bit ridiculous, but he supposed it was part of the design. The tunic fit like a glove, an invisible zipper leaving a pleasantly smooth line up the front, and the belt rested comfortably around his waist. He tugged on gloves that didn’t pinch between his fingers, and when he wiggled his digits there was no tightness, only a full range of motion. Hux was incredibly impressed, he’d had expensive store bought gloves of much worse quality. Next was the coat made of heavy material. He shrugged it on, allowing it to rest comfortably on his shoulders as a thought struck him.

How close to Ben’s size was he? Everything seemed to fit Hux as though it had been tailored specifically for him. 

Frowning, Hux perched the gleaming black hat with strange insignia on top of his head and opened the door.

He stepped out into the main room and momentarily forgot his train-of-thought when he saw the utter delight on her face. Pure joy had a name, and it was called Rey Jakken.

“It’s perfect!” She said, twirling her finger. He obeyed and turned a clipped circle. 

“It’s very well made,” he acknowledged. “My father would be incredibly impressed. He’s had students with far less aptitude.” His son included, though Hux decided she didn’t need to know that. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she said, gesturing him to come closer. She was perched on the window sill, the shutters closed at her back, though light was still getting through the dilapidated louvres, framing her in a soft, gold light.

He moved closer as instructed, unable to help himself as he stood between her knees, keeping his arms stiffly at his sides and praying his skin wasn’t betraying him like it normally did. Everything seemed to meet her critical eye with a tick of approval though, as she smoothed her hands over his chest and down his arms. A giggle erupted from her throat as she peeked up at his hat.

“So who are they?” He finally asked, becoming uncomfortable with her proximity.

“Characters from a fantasy movie,” she said, adjusting his belt ever so slightly so that the silver buckle was more centred. “I’d already guessed you hadn’t seen it.”

“I can admire the hard work, though,” he said. “So Ben must be my doppleganger, this fits me amazingly. I hope it does for him.”

The strangest thing happened to her at his words.

She both seemed to shrink in upon herself and expand with defiance, gaze dropping and cheeks flushing hot as her fingers curled into his shirt. 

“Ben already has his costume.” She said softly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s been wearing it to sleep for the past month.” She admitted, glancing up at him. 

Blushes weren’t supposed to be attractive. At least, in Hux’s experience they never were. Perhaps that was only a curse for those with bright ginger hair and deathly pale skin. On her olive complexion the blush looked so utterly enchanting, sparkling her eyes and flushing her face as though she’d been kissed. 

Hux cleared his throat nervously.

“I made this for you.” She said softly.

“For me?” He asked in disbelief. Rey nodded and then did another strange thing.

The fingers curled in his chest _pulled_ as she stretched _up_ and their lips met gently.

For a moment Hux wondered if he should have told anyone where _he_ was going, for surely he was about to be murdered. The universe played very cruel and unusual jokes on him. This had to be one of them. 

Except she didn’t pull back.

Her lips were soft and warm against his, a gentle, kneading pressure as her tongue pressed against the seam of his own lips. Hux gasped and she took advantage of his stillness, deepening the kiss as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards her. 

Panic was followed quickly by bewilderment and disbelief, until all three emotions were swirling around one big heading that screamed _’LUST’_. Hux had no idea what was happening to him, but he was liking it so far.

She pulled away, staring up at him nervously, hazel eyes dewy with panicked tears.

“I stalked you online,” she admitted. “I know you know that I did, you told me too, but … I couldn’t help it. Hux, I’m sorry, I just-” she was pulling away, fingers slipping from his hair as she released him. Her heels thudded against the wall, a nervous gesture as she looked down at her hands. Despite still being almost flush with her, the distance between them seemed vast, a minefield he didn’t know how to traverse.

His heart beat painfully in his chest, mouth filled with the flavour of her, nose with the scent of her. 

“I know that you’re not really, I mean, I’ve seen pictures of you and your ex-girlfriends. They’re all tall and blonde and-” she held her hands out to emphasise large breasts, bouncing them for exaggeration, her knuckles grazing the front of him with the motion. “You were so nice online, and I know rule number one of talking online is don’t believe anything.” Hux stood waiting for the carpet to crumble under his feet, for the world to give way. “You’ve been to so many places around the world! And you have four cars. Four expensive ones! I don’t even know what they’re called. And your family? Your father is so famous, he’s an idol to me! I felt so horrible when I found out but I couldn’t help myself Hux.” He knew she couldn’t, no one could. “I had to meet you so I took advantage of it, of who your father was.” It was always-wait, what? 

“What?” Hux repeated his internal query. She stared up at him, wide eyed and lost now that her thought flow had been interrupted. 

“I had to meet you,” she repeated. “I really like you, but I couldn’t figure out how to actually meet you in person. So when I found out who your dad was, and I had these outfits that I wanted to make, so I thought that maybe I could use your dad to get you to come to me.”

“You … you wanted to meet me, not my Father?” He needed her to clarify that startlingly bizarre fact. She nodded pathetically, wisps of hair escaping her buns. He chuckled, unable to help himself. “Do you know that’s the nicest thing a girl has ever said to me?”

She laughed, the sound mingled with nervous disbelief. 

“I only have one car now, too. A toyota. I sold the four to fund my company, as well as two properties that were passed into my name when I turned eighteen. Technically I’m debt now.”

“You’re still a rich boy,” she said defensively, though her tone was playful. 

“Mmm,” he agreed, leaning forward so that his hands resting lightly on her hips. Rey did not shift away or look uncomfortable. Instead she gazed into his eyes with something completely unfathomable to him. 

“When we first started talking I thought you were the most boring man alive.” She said, a laser beam straight through his heart. “But you were really passionate about your work. And you were actually interested in my shitty life.”

“You could write a novel with the amount of nonsense you encounter at work,” he chided, trying not to think too hard on where this conversation was leading, or how well their bodies slotted together. He was especially trying not too hard to think of just how damned _hard_ he was. How did being around this unconsciously beautiful girl reduce him to such a simpering idiot?

“I’m sorry I kissed you without your permission.” She said softly, her pupils dilating as he leant in closer, determined to not ruin this. 

Her lips parted quickly under his. He didn’t know if he was drowning in her passion, or if she was drowning in his. Regardless, her arms were wrapped tightly around him, his fingers digging into her hips, dragging her closer so that their bodies were pressed flush together.

“Oh!” She squeaked in surprise. 

Biggest. Simpering. Idiot.

How was he supposed to play it cool when he’d just dragged her against his hard on? Hux’s face was on fire as he began to pull back his head and make sure she was okay with this.

The brush of her fingers against his crotch jolted lightning through his veins instead. The light touch became a firm pressure and then a slight tug.

“Oh, god,” he grunted against her mouth, feeling her smile.

“I don’t know if you noticed in my room, while you were changing, but I’m not wearing any underwear,” she breathed. 

Hux had never removed a woman’s pants faster in his life. Her lack of shoes made so much more sense now, considering that she seemed to exhibit the same level of perfectionism in her work that he did. Her laughter was infectious, and he felt the smile stretch across his face as he kissed her again, losing himself in the taste of Rey. 

Her fingers tugged at the clasp and fly on his pants, searching for the band of his underwear so that she could free him.

The last logical part of his brain wondered if they weren’t going a little bit too fast. Shouldn’t he work on her first? With his fingers, or tongue? Shouldn’t he kiss her breasts or her neck or see her naked first? Shouldn’t he take her out to dinner, or lunch, or breakfast, wasn’t that what usually happened? Coffee even? 

A firm grip closed around him and his hips stuttered forward as her thumb slid over his head. His incredibly wet head, as Hux was again reminded how little control he had of himself in that moment. 

Rey shifted slightly, teeth nipping at his lower lip, tugging him forward with her hand as her legs parted further. She leant back against the window and then all he felt was warmth. Slick and tight engulfing him as her limbs wrapped around him. The thick coat he wore was almost suffocating as she held on, face buried in his neck as she whimpered when he shifted his legs slightly for more purchase.

What about a condom, protection? Was she on the pill? She was so wet and welcoming, but he had to be responsible, he had to- she was rocking her hips, sending shivers of pleasure rolling up and down his spine. Hux tried to stop her, to make her see reason, but the words came out garbled and sounded more like ‘You’re amazing’ and ‘Don’t stop’ then ‘We should talk about this first.’ 

He groaned as he trailed his lips down the side of her face, nibbling at her ear. He savoured the whimper it drew from her, the way she clung tighter when he bucked his hips, thrusting deeper, seating her more firmly on him, her legs tight around his waist, her ankles locked behind his back.

“Rey,” he said as she began to move with vigour, the rhythm punishing and sinful. He could feel the urge curling from his toes to his groin, stirring into a frenzy in his gut. “Rey, slow down or it’ll be over too soon.” But she wasn’t listening, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. She held on tighter and rode him for all she could despite their precarious balance on the windowsill. Hux clenched his eyes tightly shut, burying his head into her neck as he came hard, embarrassingly fast. He hissed, over-sensitised as she kept moving, chasing the high she couldn’t reach, so Hux did the next best thing he could think of. 

He pulled out before the pleasure-pain became too unbearable. 

“No,” she whimpered, only to sigh, head falling back again as he slid two gloved fingers inside her instead. He’d honestly forgotten he was wearing gloves at all, but she didn’t seem to mind. Hux stepped back slightly, giving himself more room and a better view as he began to work her. She twisted and moaned, digging her heels into the edge of the sill for leverage, still clutching the front of his shirt for support. The gloves sloshed wetly in her as he pumped and scissored his fingers, utterly hypnotised by the way she moved and the way she sounded. He slid his thumb over her clit and watched her almost jump out of her skin at the pressure. 

“Rey,” he said, at an utter loss for what else he _could_ say. This was utterly genuine and utterly abandoned desire. 

“Hux,” she squeaked in response, unable to catch her breath as her chest rose and fell heavily, sweat beading on her forehead, back arched as her nails dug into him through the fabric. “Oh! _Please_!” She almost squealed, body tensing. 

He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to watch and witness and see what her undoing would look like, but he still throbbed from being inside her, pleasure still coiling through him, serpentine and seductive. Hux lurched forward, kissing her deeply, finding her tongue with his as he pressed his thumb down on her clit, two fingers in her thrusting hard and deep.

She bucked violently and he swallowed her silent cries as she went lax against him, barely able to hold onto him. Smugly satisfied, and unable to hide his smirk, Hux pulled out of her, holding up his hand to show her the evidence of her pleasure dripping down his glove. 

She looked at him, bleary eyed and sated for a moment, before clasping his hand between her two and bringing his fingers to her lips. Utterly speechless, Hux felt the heat of her tongue press against the leather, her lips wrapping around the two digits that had been inside her. He exhaled shakily, feeling as though his legs were about to give out under him. He quickly scooped her up, arm under her knees, the other at her back as he hauled her away from the window.

Rey’s squeal echoed around the apartment, arms wrapping around his neck as he let them fall backwards onto her couch, tangling them together. 

“We’re going to need to clean these costumes now,” she said, wrinkling her nose as she trailed a hand down his clothed torso to his bare cock. 

“Rey, I-” he began, needing to clarify what had just happened. Had she … used him? It wasn’t an uncommon thing, but he liked to know these things beforehand, before he could grow too … attached … 

“Hush,” she said instead, burying herself down into him, as though he wasn’t already sweltering in his multiple thick layers of black fabric. He envied her pants-less state and airy shirt for a moment. “If you don’t like me, don’t tell me. You can just leave when we’re done here and never come back.”

“You are honestly the strangest girl I have ever met.” He said, her hair tickling his cheek as he wriggled under her, adjusting her weight so she lay more comfortably over him. 

“It’s probably because I’m not rich, it builds character,” she said, and he wisely ignored the slight catch in her voice. It was no secret between them that her life had been hard and impoverished. 

“I think it’s more because you’re a genuinely good person,” Hux said honestly. “I’m not used to people doing what they mean and saying what they believe.” 

“That’s rather sad,” she said, plucking at a button on his shirt. She was so nice and soft over him, and not just because they’d had sex. This girl he’d met on the internet and coerced into meeting him. Or … had she coerced him? Hux frowned up at the ceiling. 

“Thank you for taking advantage of me,” he said. 

“Well I couldn’t take advantage of your sewing skills,” she popped up on her elbows, looking him in the face with a knowing grin. He felt the flush spread over his face again, embarrassment running obviously rampant as she giggled. “You should have seen the panic on your face when you were at the sewing machine! Hux! I know you can’t sew! There are so many articles online about it!” She pressed her lips to his again, spreading warmth through his chest. 

“Well lucky I have you then,” he said with false bravado, waiting nervously for her reaction.

“Yes you are,” she said with a blinding smile. “You’re mine now, Armitage Hux.”


End file.
